Council of Three
by KLMeri
Summary: Jim and Spock have decided to woo the ship's doctor. K/S/M - COMPLETE
1. Part One

**Title**: Council of Three (1/2)  
**Author**: klmeri  
**Fandom**: Star Trek TOS  
**Pairing**: Kirk/Spock/McCoy  
**Summary**: Jim and Spock have decided to woo the ship's doctor.  
**A/N**: I am mcspirking. No, don't look at me like that. It's a real thing!  
Started this about two months ago. It's only now making its way to the top of the pile. Just to warn you... it's so sweet, it will make your teeth crack.

* * *

Later there would be some question as to why Spock approached Jim first. It would not be jealousy which inspired the question but an epiphany of sorts from someone who is only then beginning to realize how precious others might consider him.

That being said, the answer to the question is quite simple, one which both Spock and Jim give readily: "We had to be certain."

Meaning, _We knew the gamble was all or nothing, Bones, and Spock and I play at our best when we work together to win._

Hearing what is unspoken, the man nicknamed Bones sputters and flushes. "I'm a doctor, not the grand prize in a contest!"

Of course, given how smitten he sounds, neither Jim nor Spock take his protest very seriously.

[~~~]

"Concerning the Doctor..." Spock begins in a frank manner.

"Reservations?" Jim asks, curling his hands around his First's shoulders.

"None," replies the Vulcan. "But I should like to note: to court him will prove most challenging."

Jim hopes so. Already, as he lovingly strokes a hand down the Vulcan's arm (and it satisfies him greatly that he can, given how long he has waited for Spock to allow this intimacy), his eyes are filled with anticipation. For a moment or two he looks exactly as he did when he heard their ship had been chosen to engage in war games with the _USS Excalibur_ and _USS Lexington_.

Spock watches Jim's expression intently, as though doing so allows him to better predict the plan as it unfolds.

"We'll have to court him separately." Then Jim amends, "At first."

"Agreed. If approached in tandem the Doctor might feel overwhelmed," Spock expounds, "which would increase the risk of failure to an unacceptable level. However, it is also not the objective for our attentions to be misconstrued as mutually exclusive."

"And if Bones feels he is in a position where he has to choose one over the other, it's game over."

"Indeed. I suspect he would refuse us both on principle. He does not like to be 'caught in the middle', as you humans phrase it."

Jim gives a low chuckle while drawing the Vulcan a little closer. "Then shall we discuss where and when to begin?"

"In detail, _ashayam_," agrees Spock. He presents his forefinger and index finger. "I am available for the remainder of the evening."

Jim touches Spock's fingers chastely with his own. "Good." His eyes twinkle. "I dare say Bones won't know what hit him."

[~~~]

Kirk enacts his particular strategy almost immediately. Leonard McCoy is, to say the least, unaware that the dinner he agrees to is not planned to be like their usual affair. Jim has to suppress his eagerness when the doctor arrives at the entrance to his cabin, a good bottle of liquor in hand and an absent smile on his face.

"Bones," Jim greets him warmly, sliding his hand from the top of Leonard's shoulder to the back of the man's shoulder blade. It doesn't take much pressure to steer the man towards the table across the room.

One of Leonard's eyebrows goes up when he sees the fare set out, complete with two flickering candles and a tablecloth. "We celebratin' something, Jim?" he asks.

"Oh, I thought we'd try something different for a change. Although, as far as celebrations go..." Jim picks up a glass already filled with champagne and hands it to the man before retrieving his own for a toast. "Here's to our friendship, Bones... and our future."

Leonard accepts the toast without question. Again, Jim has to bear down on his eagerness.

After they've each had a swallow of the champagne, Leonard studies the cork of the bottle he had brought. "I suppose I should set this aside."

Jim takes it from him. "We'll have both."

Leonard laughs and sits at the table. "Just how much of a headache do you want to have tomorrow, Captain?"

Smiling, Jim takes a seat too, scooting his chair over until it is perpendicular to Leonard's. "Jim, Bones," he reminds his companion. "Ship's business is not allowed in my quarters tonight."

"Hm," Leonard says, falling into a comfortable slouch. He tastes the champagne again. "You know, when I first came aboard, I wasn't sure I'd have these kind of dinners with anyone. It was a lonely enough prospect that I almost didn't finalize the commission."

It had never occurred to Jim that McCoy would consider leaving the ship. The thought isn't a pleasant one. "But you knew me," he protests lightly. "Knew what I was like. We were already friends."

"Well, yes," Leonard agrees, cutting his eyes at Jim, "but having a friend who's also your commanding officer is a little different."

Jim reaches over to drop his hand on top of the hand McCoy is resting on the table. "It's not so bad, right?"

Leonard presses his lips together. It does nothing to dissuade his smile. "I'd say it's manageable."

"You're a tease, Bones."

The man laughs, shaking his head. "All right, Jim."

When Jim's eyes fall to half-mast and he repeats the nickname "_Bones_", letting the full force of his fondness drive the word, Leonard turns slightly red around the collar and insists, "Enough."

"I don't know what you mean," counters Jim in his smoothest voice.

"Uh-huh," his friend says. Leonard turns his hand over so they are palm-to-palm and squeezes Jim's fingers affectionately. Then he pulls away and picks up a fork. "The food's gonna go cold in another minute."

Jim takes his own eating utensils in hand and smiles to himself, pleased so far. If there is anything to regret, he thinks, is only that he won't be around to see Spock take his turn.

Silverware clinks against plates. Jim savors his first bite of a rare roast beef before remarking, too casually, "There's peach pie for dessert."

Leonard looks up from his meal, blinking his surprise. "That's my favorite." After momentarily considering Jim, he comments, "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were buttering me up for some reason."

"What could I possibly want," Jim demurs, "when I have everything within reach?"

"Good question," his friend replies, turning back to his dinner. "Truth is you are a lucky man, Jim Kirk. You've got it all."

_Almost_, Jim thinks, looking at the one exception.

As is habit between them, they fall into a comfortable silence while they eat.

After the main course and before the dessert, Leonard finally breaks the silence. "Tell me about that book you were reading last time. Did you finish it?"

"Last time... Oh, _Salt-Water Poems_," Jim remembers. "What do you know about John Masefield?"

"Well, I'm guessing he's the poet." Leonard smiles crookedly at him. "And now you're going to quote me your favorite parts because you've already memorized them." He waves his hand in mock-tolerance. "Go on, then. I've got at least one ear for listening."

Jim laughs, delighted. "This is why I love you, Bones."

Then he clears his throat and begins, "Sea-fever, by John Masefield: _'I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky, And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by..._"

[~~~]

It is an hour past Spock's shift and nearly three hours past Dr. McCoy's. Nurse Chapel appears pleased that someone has shown up who has the authority to roust the doctor out of Sickbay. Spock finds it a convenient excuse under which to proceed.

Dr. McCoy, however, does not.

"Are you sick?" Spock is asked.

"No, Doctor."

The human eyes the Vulcan suspiciously from head to toe. "If you're not sick, then you should not be pestering me."

Two responses immediately come to mind. Both are truthful. Spock chooses the one which is less likely to give him away: "I did not think you would be disagreeable to my presence."

The doctor opens and closes his mouth.

Spock watches him, fascinated.

Following a short stretch of silence, the man admits, "I'm not disagreeable," then huffs like he cannot believe he would say that and grudgingly waves Spock the rest of the way into his office. Picking up a stylus and rolling it between his fingers, Leonard takes to studying Spock. "So... this isn't business?"

Spock gleans that the human is slightly discomforted by his standing in parade rest so he selects a chair in front of the desk and sits down. "I am told it is often appreciated if one inquires as to how another's day fares."

Leonard leans back in his chair, a smile ghosting his features. "Did a certain meddlesome captain tell you that?"

"Negative. My mother provided the insight."

Leonard's eyebrows shoot upward. "Really now? You were asking your mother for... what, exactly? How to socialize with humans?"

Spock has no intentions of sharing the conversation which led to her advice on cultivating the attention of one of his shipmates. If he were capable of forgetting it, he would—not that it is likely his mother will forgo asking about his progress the next time they communicate. Spock can only hope she has not yet shared these private matters with his father. Sarek will not ask questions; he will schedule a rendezvous with the _Enterprise_ to meet the humans which have engaged the interest of his son.

He explains, "She feels she must impart to me some of her experiences as a human in hopes that I will find the information useful one day."

"Ah," Leonard murmurs more softly. "Well, that's just what mothers do, Spock. It's a protective instinct, really, even if it can sometimes be annoying for the recipient."

"Yes, I understand."

Leonard continues to fidget with the stylus. Silence descends upon them in the small office, until Leonard mutters abruptly, "I think I want to get out of here."

"Where would you like to go?" Spock asks.

The doctor's gaze traces the walls, the shelving, the door. "Don't know."

Ah. "Then might I make a suggestion?"

Leonard's eyes return to him. "Sure."

Spock stands and starts for the door.

"Wait!" the doctor calls, catching up to him in a hurry. "You haven't said where!"

Spock tilts his head ever-so-slightly to consider Leonard's expression. "I believe," he decides, "I would rather it be a surprise." He pauses, then adds, "If that is comfortable for you, Doctor."

Leonard has been studying his face in turn. Spock wonders what the man sees there that helps with his decision, for the doctor eventually nods and says, "Lead the way, then."

Spock does.

[~~~]

They—as living creatures—are so infinitesimal compared to something as vast as space. Spock admits to an awe he carries within him, since the first time he had a true look at the stars, whenever he is here. That, perhaps, is why he comes to the observation deck so often.

The human next to him is watching the stars also. Like Spock, he is silent and seemingly at peace. This characteristic is one they share: the ability to stand still and observe.

Leonard shifts on his feet, a sign that he is aware Spock is more inclined to observe him than the pinpoints of winking light.

"Does this suit your need?" Spock inquires.

Leonard glances in the Vulcan's direction, eyes as blue as the reflection nebula far, far in the distance beyond the windowpane. He begins to nod but cuts the motion short in order to speak. "Do you know... one of the cures for an attack of claustrophobia is to stand at an open window. The idea is sort of planted in our heads that when we aren't confined by walls—by any structure—we are free of restraint." The man resumes staring ahead. "Being on a spaceship makes people more sensitive to things like claustrophobia. We know we can't go outside this hull if we want to live, so sometimes it can feel more akin to a cage than a home. But ironically, I can stand here and feel like I'm really at a window, Spock. There's so much out there... so much. A wide-open space, even if it's a vacuum. Maybe that's the reason," he ends a touch sheepishly.

"This deck is open to all staff. You are free to come here when you wish, Doctor." _Particularly when it would be beneficial_, he wishes to add but does not out of caution.

"I know," Leonard says, crossing his arms. "I'm just not very fond of coming here alone. You might think it's foolishly emotional of me, but as beautiful as space is, it makes me feel lonely."

Spock does not respond to this right away, instead choosing to think on the words.

"Sorry," mutters Leonard, in the ensuing silence. "I didn't intend to over-share."

"Not at all," Spock assures him. "Though I wish to, I cannot say that I understand completely. I come here because it is a place of interest to me. The stars intrigue me."

"And the unknown that accompanies them," guesses Leonard. "You and Jim—that curiosity is what you two have in common."

"Perhaps."

The doctor _hmphs_ quietly. "Even while being considerate, you're still a stubborn hobgoblin, Spock."

"I will assume that is a compliment, Doctor."

"You would."

They lapse into a silence that is more comfortable than the previous one. Leonard takes a position right up against the sill, folding his arms against it and leaning forward onto them as he stargazes. It is irrational in some respect to think so but the starlight, in Spock's opinion, turns the human's profile into a work of art. The face, although familiar, is full of unknowns.

Leonard may be correct after all about his predilection for mystery.

"Vulcans do not dream," he says unexpectedly, subsequently surprising himself as well as Leonard.

Leonard turns to him, curiosity piqued. Spock can see it easily enough in Leonard's reflection.

"Not unless they are given to dreams of portent," Spock has to clarify so that he is not inaccurate. "Even then the ability is rare."

"I didn't know that."

"It is not something which Vulcans are likely to discuss, given that the concept is foreign to them outside of theory."

"Sounds like you don't include yourself in that group," the man next to him surmises gently.

Spock's attention is caught by the brightest star in a cluster on far right pane. "That would be because I dream." He allows for a period of time for Leonard to respond but no response is forthcoming, and so he continues on. "I was nine when I experienced my first dream. It was, as my mother later explained to me, a particular type of dream called a nightmare."

Still, oddly, Leonard stays silent.

"I awoke on my own. I remembered the dream but I did not understand it or why I would experience images which were not memories and which did not seem based in reality. The same dream occurred twice more before my mother convinced me to tell her of my troubles. Once I did, she explained that, for her people, a nightmare was not uncommon for a young child to have. Often times it was inspired by a subconscious fear, and that it would not make sense until the reason for it—the fear, that is—had been identified."

"Did you figure it out?"

"My mother did, once she knew the details of my imagining."

Leonard nods slightly but does not, to Spock's surprise, ask after the nature of the fear. "You're fond of your mother."

There is no reason to deny it. "Affirmative."

"Spock," all-at-once Leonard sounds too grave, when he should have no reason to, "I want to tell you something but you have to promise to listen until I am finished talking."

He has heard Leonard ask this of their captain when there is a high probability Jim will not like what Leonard intends to say. Spock, being forewarned in this manner, feels curiosity more strongly than he does trepidation. He promises, "I will listen."

Leonard sighs, a soft sound in the quiet stillness of the deck.

"When I pick at you, it's not because I hate your nature. To be honest, I've always thought Vulcans are, heaven help me, _fascinating_. You approach everything around you so differently than we do, and yet you are able to find value in the same things, want the same things, as a people." Leonard pauses. "I pick at you because you _aren't_ entirely Vulcan—because you're half-human too. When we first met, I thought, here's someone who has a chance to be the best of two worlds. But you were—are—Vulcan, Spock, from the pointed tips of your ears down to your toes. It seems like you don't want to be anything else. I guess that's the part which galls me." He draws in a long breath and releases it in a rush of air. "But I'm wrong, aren't I? It's not that you don't want to be human. Being human, even half-human, is difficult for you."

Yes—such a simple word to say and yet Spock cannot voice it. He has not admitted such a thing in many years.

Leonard looks away. "You don't have to say anything. I just wanted to apologize. I've been more of a problem than a solution." The doctor takes his hands off the sill and twists the ring on his smallest finger. "If it's any consolation, I do like you the way you are. Even at your most logical."

"Thank you," Spock tells him with utmost sincerity.

Leonard pushes away from the windowpane. "We should—I mean, I should probably get back. I appreciate you bringing me here." He hesitates, then, as if there is more he would say, but in the end simply shakes his head and starts toward for the deck's exit.

"Dr. McCoy," Spock calls after him.

The man stops, turns, the starlight casting a silhouette of his sloped shoulders against the far wall.

"If you should ever wish to return but do not wish to do so alone, I would be pleased to accompany you."

Though it is a slow change, a majority of the uncertainty clears from Leonard's face. His "Thanks, Spock" is genuine.

Spock replies, "You are welcome," and follows the man's progress across the deck until he disappears into the corridor beyond.

Spock has known for some time that Leonard understood him, but to have confirmation of it brings him a joy he has rarely known. The sensation is, as Leonard remarked earlier, most freeing.

[~~~]

The familiarity of it or the length in which they endure does not matter; the truth is that space is the antipathy of earth. For those born with their roots in the earth, there is always something missing: the feeling of the sun's warmth, the sting of wind, the change of seasons. When living in the sterile, climate-controlled environment of a starship becomes just slightly too much, the heart seeks the comforts of home.

If missing the earth under his feet, Jim Kirk comes here: to the gardens. They are his comfort, one which he believes it is meant to be shared.

As he walks, he glances sidelong at the man beside him. Their pace is leisurely, their strides evenly matched.

Leonard releases a long sigh, the kind that men make when a troubling weight falls off their shoulders.

"Feeling better?" Jim asks. Bones had seemed tired to him. Not overworked, precisely, but weary maybe. Then again, the long months between shore leaves wear on them all.

The doctor nods, and when he smiles, wide and warm and genuine, Jim's heart stutters in his chest. He has to study the path under his feet to get a hold on the feeling.

"I should come here more often," Leonard tells him. "It's nice."

"It's a good place to think," Jim agrees. "A place to feel..." He searches for the right word.

"Grounded."

"Yes, grounded." Jim admires the rose bushes on his left. "Even a starship captain needs that sometimes."

Leonard makes a thoughtful noise. "I would have thought you liked the observation deck better."

"I do go there on occasion," Jim confesses. "When I need to remind myself why we're here, why it's important. But honestly, that's more Spock's place."

For some reason Leonard smiles again. "Yeah."

Jim stops walking and turns partly toward him. "Do you want to go to the observation deck, Bones?"

Leonard shakes his head slightly. "No, this is good. Better than good." He looks at Jim and bounces slightly on the balls of his feet. "Say, where do you think they keep the magnolias?"

Jim would indulge him if he could. "There's not a lot of room for trees on a starship."

"Well now, Jim-boy, considerin' the size of this starship, I'd say you're wrong."

"Trees don't do as well here," he amends.

Leonard nods. "I've heard Sulu say that flowers are easier 'cause they can grow in shallow soil. Nonetheless," the doctor adds, a fond memory coming into his eyes, "I sure do miss the magnolia trees in Georgia sometimes."

Jim has seen the blooms on a magnolia tree before, so he is fairly certain he remembers what they should look like. Because he is thinking about their shape, size and color, an idea occurs to him. He catches a hold of Leonard's hand and without warning starts towing the man down a side path. Leonard sputters at the change in pace.

"C'mon, Bones!" he urges.

"Jim? Why in tarnation are we going so fast! I swear, you're no better than a child in an amusement park at times!"

"Hurry!"

"Or what?" his friend retorts.

Just after this corner, Jim thinks, and—

He swings Leonard around to face him at the last moment so his back is to the flower bed ahead of them. "Close your eyes," he all but demands.

Leonard purses his mouth. "What for?"

Jim gives Leonard a slight shake. "Close them, Bones. Trust me!"

The doctor lets the air out of his lungs with a _whoosh_ and says, "Fine." His eyes snap shut.

Jim gently turns the man around, an arm secured across his shoulders to keep him steady. "Just a moment more. Keep them closed."

"Yes, sir," Leonard says dryly.

Jim looks left then right and, seeing no one, hurries into the flower bed and plucks the nearest bloom. He is in front of Leonard again when he says, "Okay, you can look."

Blue eyes open, blink at him—then Leonard looks down. For a moment, nothing happens. The man just seems to be studying the blossom.

Jim feels a pang of disappointment. "It's not a magnolia," he says hurriedly, "but I thought—well, I thought it might have looked like one."

Oh, how terrible is this? He wasn't even this awkward as a schoolboy!

"Jim," Leonard says softly. Then, surprisingly, he cups Jim's hands with his own, like they contain something precious. "My god, it's _just_ like a magnolia." The thickness of Leonard drawls tells Jim how strongly his friend is affected by the gift—that, and the sudden sheen of tears in the man's eyes.

A lump lodges itself in Jim's throat. He doesn't think he can talk around it, so he settles for nodding. Then he lifts his hands a little higher to offer the flower.

Leonard starts to take it but stops short. His gaze snaps up to Jim's, wider than before. "_Jim, you picked this?_"

Jim feels the back of his neck flush. "Yes, so—uh—so hurry up and take it!" He knows he shouldn't have picked it. He tries to dump it into Leonard's hands.

But the man backs up, laughing, hands out, fingers splaying. "The botanists are going to _kill_ you!"

"Shh!" Oh god, what's he done? He cuts his eyes to the side. Had that bush just rustled? Who was watching? "They can't hurt me," he says, hoping for the best. "I'm their captain."

Leonard crosses his arms, eyes dancing with mirth. "Oh, Jim. How do you manage to get yourself into so much trouble? That's what I'd like to know!"

"All right, McCoy," he warns, "that's enough."

But Leonard isn't one to stop when the joke is so good. He opens his mouth—

And someone else clears his throat.

Then calls politely, "Captain?"

Jim almost flings the flower up into the air and makes a run for it but pride keeps him planted in place and common sense tells him not to leave Bones behind to face the wrath of the botanists on his own. He turns toward the sound of the voice, stashing the flower behind his back. "Yes, ah..." He finally sees who it is and feels a jolt of shock. "Spock?"

One of Spock's eyebrows rise. "Captain."

"Hello, Commander," Leonard says, coming to stand beside Jim.

The Vulcan inclines his head. "Doctor." Then he transfers his gaze back to Jim. "Forgive me... was I interrupting?"

"No," Jim says. "Nope. Nothing."

"Jim's done something bad," Jim's worst friend in the galaxy tattles. Leonard knocks shoulders with him. "C'mon. Show 'im."

Spock's other eyebrow joins the first.

The flush at the back of Jim's neck has spread to his face. He straightens and squares his shoulders, saying in his best command voice, "It isn't anything to worry about, Mr. Spock."

Leonard, damn him, takes that opportunity to pluck the flower out of Jim's cupped hands and scuttle out of range before Jim can go after him. Leonard presents the blossom to Spock with a huge grin.

"Old Jim-boy over there picked me a magnolia."

"That is not a magnolia," Spock replies. Nonetheless he carefully takes the bloom's stem between forefinger and thumb. "But I see the resemblance."

"I know," the doctor agrees, looking pleased. "It was a sweet thought."

"Unfortunately," Spock says a moment later, "I must remind the Captain that it is against regulation for any personnel who is not a designated care-taker of the plant life to prune the bushes."

Leonard snickers.

Jim turns a sour look on them both. "I don't know why I do anything for you two."

Leonard gives him an amused look. "Sure you do, Jim."

"You..." he starts, only to stop. There isn't any inclination in him to fight. It truly is not fair that he cannot keep his ire very long with either Bones or Spock. He gestures at the flower instead in a silent, helpless question of _what do I do about that?_

Spock returns the plucked blossom to its flowerbed, laying it upon the ground with reverence where others have fallen naturally. Then the Vulcan straightens, clasping his hands behind his back.

"You're in luck, Jim," Leonard remarks. "It looks like Spock's going to let this one go."

Spock twists slightly at the waist to eye McCoy. "I did not say such, Doctor."

"Do you need to?" Leonard counters, eyes still dancing.

Spock does not reply, instead turning to face Jim. "Captain," he says formally, "I will see you on the bridge."

Jim stops the Vulcan before he can go too far. "Actually," he says, "I have an appointment to keep." When Spock just looks at him, Jim adds pointedly, "Isn't that why you came to find me?" He casts an apologetic look at McCoy, saying quickly before Spock can deny anything, "Sorry, Bones."

Leonard nods, always more understanding than he should be. That is another one of the things Jim loves about him. "All right, Jim."

Jim cuts his eyes back to Spock. "I really hate to leave Bones like this, Spock. I was giving him a tour." Leonard starts to protest but Jim steamrolls over that, saying, "I would consider it a favor if you would take him around the gardens in my stead."

Spock stares, the look in his eyes plain that he knows what Jim is about. "Very well," the Vulcan says at last. "I accept."

"Now wait just a minute," interrupts Leonard, looking from Jim to Spock and back again. "Who's to say I don't have somewhere to be too?"

"Now, Bones, you know you're off-duty," Jim coaxes in his most amiable voice. "And where better is there to be but here?" He reaches out to squeeze Leonard's bicep briefly and then plants a hand firmly on the man's lower back, giving Leonard an encouraging push in Spock's direction.

Jim looks Spock in the eyes while Leonard is still fussing. "You two enjoy yourselves—Captain's orders."

"Yes, Captain."

"Jim!"

Jim walks away, humming a happy little tune to himself.

It's all been going so very well. And now that he has shown he can share Bones' affection with Spock, they can begin the second phase of their plan: to prove the three of them together is better than two.

* * *

**TBC in Part Two**


	2. Part Two

Leonard knows people well. Any training he has had in psychology simply enhances this talent of his.

So why, then, is it the one person he thinks he knows best has become the person he knows least? And—worse yet—the person he thought he didn't know at all is someone he finds himself relating to?

There is something going on which Leonard cannot quite put his finger on. Something, he thinks, that Jim and Spock are up to _together_ and that they're attempting to involve him in.

What could they possibly be up to this time? He's not certain he will make it through the suspense.

"Doctor?"

Leonard is pulled back to the present by one of the suspicious individuals in question. He says, as offhand as he can, "Just lost in my thoughts, Spock." He narrows his eyes very slightly in his companion's direction.

Said suspicious individual blinks his innocence in response to this scrutiny. "Shall I walk you back to Sickbay?" Spock asks.

It sounds more like a _I want to walk you back to Sickbay_ rather than a polite offer from a colleague. The fact that it is coming from Spock makes the moment that much more surreal—and makes Leonard feel strangely glad.

He manages to keep the sappy sentiment to himself. "All right," he concedes. "Thanks for the tour. I didn't realize you had made a study of botany."

"It is a science, although not one that I actively participate in. I do, however, enjoy knowledge for the sake of simply knowing it."

"Me too," murmurs the doctor. "It's one of the greatest gifts we're given in this universe, the ability to learn and to grow from learning."

"Agreed."

When they reach Sickbay, it is with some reluctance that Leonard parts ways with Spock. If deep in his heart he likes to think Spock felt that reluctance too, he whispers of his secret to no one.

[~~~]

The blaring of the klaxons is a distant sound to Jim Kirk's ears. Hands locked on his chair's armrests, he leans forward to study the subtle shifting of the battle cruiser on the bridge screen. "Heading one-fifty, mark eight!" he barks to his helmsman.

Phaser fire clips the _Enterprise_ on her starboard side, shaking them all in their seats.

"Shields sixty percent and holding," Spock informs him.

Uhura calls, "Captain, minor damage reported on decks nine and sixteen. Injuries on deck ten."

Jim hears everything, even the low muttering of the lieutenant at the weapons station. "Lock phasers," he orders.

"Captain," his First interjects, "we cannot fire from our present range and expect to strike the target."

"I know, Spock," Jim replies, "but we need him to _move_."

For all that the _Enterprise_ is top-of-the-line in the Federation, the other ship is much smaller and therefore much lither. Their ship's half-a-second delay puts them at a disadvantage—and these pirates know it.

Since they can't outpace the cruiser, they will have to outsmart it.

Jim's fingers curl into the hard surface of the chair. "Steady, steady..." he warns. "Aim for the side engine." He counts out three seconds before crying, "Fire!"

The shot goes wide, as he knew it would.

The battle cruiser dances in close and pelts them with their phasers like a gleeful child taunting a big, clumsy adult.

"Deflector shields at fifty percent, Captain."

"Return fire."

The speaker in Jim's chair crackles to life with a familiar and very irate voice: "_Sickbay to Bridge! What's going on up there?_"

"Not now, Bones," Jim says, not amused by the distraction.

McCoy's voice snaps right back, "_Captain, we got more patients coming in with head injuries from your wild space acrobatics than we have beds. Every time I try to fix one you knock 'im to the floor! For god's sake, at least keep the ship straight!_"

"Noted, Doctor." With the side of his fist, Jim hits the button to end the communication. "Ready a torpedo. Uhura, signal all decks to prepare for close-range impact of the blast."

The cruiser wheels around, ready to dart in for its next attack.

Jim almost smiles. _Your mistake,_ he thinks and braces himself for victory.

[~~~]

With the ship no longer tossing about both staff and patients, and everyone accounted for and attended to, Leonard finally has time for himself.

_What a mess_, he thinks as he tears open the corner of a gauze packet. He uses the pad to wipe the side of his face like a washcloth, glad his nurses are otherwise occupied. They would have something to say about him using supplies this way.

Not that he cares. It's a sight better than walking around with blood on his face.

And his uniform—god, his uniform! What are the people in Laundry Services going to say when they see this tunic?

He's muttering to himself when his office door slides open to admit a familiar figure in science blues.

"Doctor, contrary to your earlier complaint, it seems Sickbay is—"

Spock stops talking.

Because Leonard has never before heard Spock lose his words mid-sentence, the man turns to get a better look at his visitor.

One moment Spock is staring back, the next moment the Vulcan is close enough to be breathing in Leonard's face.

"You are bleeding. Where are you injured?"

Spock must have crossed the room in the blink of Leonard's eyes. Stunned, the doctor lets go of his stained gauze without a fight when Spock takes it between forefinger and thumb. Spock's other hand encircles Leonard's wrist.

As soon as Spock starts to haul him bodily toward the door, Leonard comes to his senses and plants his feet. "Now just a minute—what are you doing!"

"You are bleeding." The words are oddly terse.

"I'm not bleeding!"

The look in the Vulcan's eyes reads clearly _do not lie to me, you foolish human_.

Leonard amends, "I'm not bleeding anymore. It's fine. It's fixed."

"Who attended you?"

Leonard tries to tug his wrist loose but fails and frowns. "This may come as a surprise to you, Spock, but I _am_ a doctor. I attended myself."

"Where was the injury?"

"It was a cut above the hairline."

"Yet there is the substantial amount of blood on your person."

"Head wounds can bleed profusely."

"How did it happen?"

"How do you think, with this ship being manned like it's on the high seas? I caught the edge of a biobed during a fall," the doctor grumps.

"Have you been examined for non-visible injuries?"

Leonard finally succeeds in prying himself out of the Vulcan's strong grip and warns him, "That's enough, Spock. Go write a report about it if you have to, but let me be!"

Spock considers him a moment longer, as though weighing the embarrassment Leonard is likely to cause if the matter is pursued against his duty to verify the good health of the CMO.

Leonard helps make the decision for Spock by hurrying to sit down behind his desk. He then slides a stack of work PADDs into his line of vision and, clearing his throat, picks up the topmost one. When he sees it is a requisition form for half a dozen costly items, he tries not to grimace.

After Spock steps out of his office, Leonard doesn't expect him to come back. Certainly he doesn't expect the hobgoblin to come back with a shirt in hand.

Spock offers it to Leonard. "Nurse Chapel directed me to the supply unit where your department stores extra attire."

"I suppose this is your not-so-subtle method of telling me I look terrible."

Spock cocks his head in that infuriating way of his and asks, "Why would subtlety be necessary?"

Leonard takes the blue tunic with an exaggerated huff of annoyance. "Thanks anyway. Now scat! I don't need an audience while I change."

Spock finally leaves him alone.

As he tugs off his shirt and replaces it with a clean one, Leonard finds himself smiling.

The Vulcan is a nuisance, but at least he knows how to be a thoughtful nuisance on occasion.

[~~~]

The Officer's Mess is loud, but not so loud that Jim cannot be heard by his lunch companion.

"What's the catch?"

Jim widens his eyes. "Bones, it's a simple invitation!"

For some reason this claim causes Leonard McCoy to look more suspicious. Time for a tactical retreat, decides Jim.

"We like your company," he tells the man sitting next to him. He uses his fork to prod at the air for emphasis. "It's a great idea."

"And it's becoming a popular one, it seems," grumbles the other man. "_Too_ popular. We're having dinner together nearly every day now, and suddenly you want to force Spock along too?"

Jim is almost offended by that. "Nobody is forcing anybody."

Leonard's sideways glance at Kirk is considering. "I think we'd better cut lunch short, Jim, before this turns into a real fight." He slides his tray forward and starts to stand up.

Jim catches the doctor's arm, stilling the motion. "No," he says firmly. "Sit down. We won't fight."

Leonard drops back into his seat and turns to Jim so they are face-to-face. "Listen, whatever it is you're up to, you need to reconsider your strategy. I'm beginning to feel crowded."

Jim lets go of Leonard to tap one of his fingers against his mouth. "Is our time together bothering you that much?"

Leonard's shoulders curve downward into their habitual slump. "No... it's not that exactly. We could share the same quarters, and I'd be fine with it." Leonard doesn't seem to notice the light that sparks in Jim's eyes. "The not knowing _why_ is what gets me—and you're doing your darnedest to lead me away from an answer. I don't like it!" He purses his mouth at the end of that last statement.

Jim returns his hand to the man's forearm and squeezes it lightly. "I don't know very many men would call out their captain on something they don't like."

"Well I'm not talking to my captain right now, am I?" comes the retort. "And there you go again with the deflection. Stop it."

"I'm telling you all of the little things I like about you, Bones. Is that a crime?"

"It could be. You compliment me too much for somebody who doesn't want anything in return."

Jim lifts the corner of his mouth. "Did I say I didn't want anything?"

"'My lord!" his friend exclaims. "I swear, talking to the green-blooded hobgoblin is easier than talking with you these days."

"Very good," Jim murmurs, and Leonard gives him a strange look. "So, about that dinner with Spock..."

"Oh, fine—I give in. But only because one of us needs to know when to quit. Clearly that isn't you, Captain."

"I thought I was Jim."

"I changed my mind. Let's discuss that new imaging scanner Medical needs."

Jim turns his attention back to his mostly untouched food. "Ship's business it is, then," he replies amiably and proceeds to eat with gusto. Between mouthfuls he says, "Scanners are expensive."

"Sure they are, but you'll feel a damned sight better next time you need a BCP knowing the device you're attached to isn't likely to invert your gamma and delta waves."

"That doesn't sound good."

"It isn't, which is why I sent a polite missive to the Surgeon General detailing why the entire series needs to be recalled and the supplier sued down to their last credit. This is the twenty-third century for god's sake! We're supposed to be advanced enough that we can fix brain tumors, not cause 'em."

Jim chuckles. He can imagine how polite that missive was. "Where's the req? I'll sign it."

"Ask your yeoman. I submitted it over a week ago."

Their conversation carries on from there, and their meal together remains undisturbed. Jim is in a great mood by the end of the lunch date. He thinks Leonard is too.

[~~~]

After the honored guest of the evening has excused himself from the Captain's quarters, Jim sits back in his chair and studies the Vulcan across the table. Spock selects a rook on the chess board and moves it to the second level.

"I didn't know Vulcans understood the concept of a serenade," Jim remarks, tone informal.

_How come I didn't get serenaded?_ he doesn't add. He can imagine that would probably sound a bit petulant to Spock.

"Jim, if you are inquiring as to why I have not played a musical instrument in order to appeal to your senses, it is because you do not require the enticement."

"I'm not opposed to a little seduction, Spock."

"I am aware of this fact. However, is it not true that you prefer to be the seducer and not the seduced?"

Jim moves one of his pawns, admitting, "It's true."

Spock barely glances at the board. "You will be checkmated in four moves."

Jim catches Spock's gaze and holds it. "What if I implemented a more aggressive approach?"

The Vulcan raises one eyebrow. "Such as?"

"Physical contact."

"Define the parameters of this contact."

"Close proximity. Intimate. Possibly arousing."

"A kiss, if brief and discreet, is the least likely to upset him."

Jim runs a thumb across his lower lip. He prefers to put substantial effort into his kissing. But Spock is right, of course. Bones may just knock him senseless and then schedule him for a psychological exam. "Then you'll have to do it."

Spock lifts both his eyebrows this time. "I do not think my playing the lyre for Leonard places me in a position to initiate a such personal gesture."

"It could be a kiss of affection, like you said."

"Jim, your suggestion is not reasonable at this point in time."

Jim crosses his arms. "So you're saying _I_ have to be the one to try for affectionate but not..."

"Acutely amorous."

"Wonderful," Jim says dryly. "Could you possibly make the task more difficult?"

"Try not to over-think it," Spock tells him, sounding very Bones-like, "and you will be successful."

[~~~]

"_Bones_."

"Quiet," Jim is told.

Leonard does not slow his pace. Jim lengthens his stride to keep up.

He tries again. "Bones, it was just a—"

Jim is unceremoniously jerked into the nearest turbolift by his wrist. Only once the door is closed, the two officers are alone and the lift is en route to Sickbay does Leonard McCoy round on him and demand, "What the _hell_ is the matter with you?"

Jim cannot help but bristle in response.

"Have you lost what little sense you've got? My god, Jim! You don't _do that_, and certainly not in the middle of a public corridor!"

Jim counters, "Why not?"

The look in Leonard's eyes changes, then. He says, voice quieter but still intense, "Who are you?"

Jim grabs the man's shoulders, intending to give him a shake, but Leonard pushes him back.

"Right now I don't know you," the man says, "so I'll ask you not to touch me."

His friend could have struck him and Jim thinks he would have been less surprised. He takes a step back and notices for the first time how truly tense Leonard is.

His anger vanishes. "I'm sorry," he apologizes. "Bones, what...?" But there isn't a point in asking; he knows what he did. He just hadn't expected a reaction like this. "I'm sorry," he says again.

Leonard steps back and leans against the wall. "Stop the lift."

Jim orders it to halt. Sickbay is five decks away. The two men lock eyes.

"You kissed me," Leonard says.

"Yes." Jim pauses. "It was affectionate."

But Leonard disagrees. "You don't kiss people as a sign of affection, Jim. You touch them. You might even hug them. But I'd bet a month's salary you haven't once done something like drop a kiss on top of a child's head or drawn someone in and pressed your lips to their cheek simply because you were feeling friendly."

In truth, Jim cannot think of a time when he has done either of those things.

Leonard crosses his arms. "Tell me in plain words what it is you're after. If you don't, I'll have to mark this down as another aberration of your behavior."

"Another?"

"You've been acting very strange lately, Jim. I'm worried I might have to actually file a report about it one of these days."

Jim looses a long breath. "Damn."

Leonard's arms drop back to his sides. "Can you tell me?"

"If I said I'm embarrassed, could we let it go at that?"

"No."

"Damn," Jim says again. Then, "All right, Bones, you win." Looking at the man, he realizes what in theory seems difficult is really just a matter of being honest. "The thing is, I like you."

Leonard looks at him strangely. "I know that, Jim."

"I see," Jim says, certain Leonard doesn't understand his meaning at all. "Then you also know I like you enough to _kiss_ you."

Both of Leonard's eyebrows rise a little. The doctor opens his mouth as if to speak but closes it too suddenly. He stares at Jim.

"And you were right," Jim adds. "I don't give platonic kisses."

"Jim... Jim, I don't know what to say."

Spock would know how to handle this, Jim thinks. "You don't need to say anything." He glances toward the closed turbolift door then looks back at Leonard. "Bones, are you truly shocked?"

Leonard presses his mouth flat. "I don't know."

Silence lingers between them for a moment before Jim asks, "Have I upset you?"

Leonard sighs as he crosses his arms, his expression hinting that he isn't certain he likes his answer. "I'm not upset."

Greatly relieved, Jim jokes, "Are you at least flattered?"

Leonard quirks his mouth. "To have caught the eye of James Tiberius Kirk? Well now, I wouldn't say I thought it was impossible." At the look on Jim's face, he amends, "Although to be fair, I guess most people think it's flattering to be the object of someone's passing fancy."

"Two things," Jim says, lifting two fingers to make his point. "First, do not assume I am the only one on this ship who's interested in you."

"What?"

Jim lowers one finger. "Second, I think I have to take offence at 'passing fancy'. When I say I like you, I mean I have long-since realized I'm in love with you, Bones. I'm not feeling whimsical, and I'm not about to take it back." He lowers his hand.

It's a long moment before Leonard replies to that. He says at last, "We can't have this conversation in a turbolift."

Jim nods and clears his throat. "Computer, resume to destination."

Leonard turns his attention toward the floor of the lift, the Adam's apple of his throat bobbing.

Jim waits a few seconds before saying, "We do need to talk, Bones."

"Not in Sickbay."

"I know. I have to head to the Bridge anyway. My quarters, this evening?"

Leonard shakes his head slightly. "No." The ship's computer announces their arrival, and the turbolift's door opens. "My quarters," he tells Jim. Then the man steps onto the deck. "See you then." He doesn't look back at Jim.

Jim waits until he is in the lift by himself to drop his head into his hands.

[~~~]

"Interesting," Spock says when Jim calls him into the Ready Room and gives him a brief rundown of the encounter with Leonard. "I feel it is significant he wishes to have the discussion in his quarters but I confess I cannot discern why."

Jim has considered that already. "There's something a professor from one of my classes at the Academy remarked on that always stayed with me, Spock. He said when it comes to forming an alliance between two hostile parties, there is nothing stronger than a literal common ground. That is why a summit is held at a neutral location, somewhere which all parties can respect and in which they will either have an equal stake or no stake at all."

"What was the class?"

"Foundations of Diplomacy. A requirement for those cadets on an advanced command track."

"There were some courses which seemed to me redundant, but that is because I am Vulcan and was therefore exposed to the same subjects at an earlier age by my tutors."

Jim unfolds his arms. "You were tutored? I thought you attended school with the other Vulcan children."

"For a time I did," Spock says but offers no other information.

Jim doesn't press him for details. His mind is still captured by the problem at hand. "You're coming with me, aren't you?"

"I have not been invited, Jim."

"I'm extending the invitation to include a plus-one." He lays a hand on Spock's arm. "Spock, I can't do this without you. I _shouldn't_ do it without you. You're invested in the outcome as much as I am."

"Leonard may not be aware of that fact."

"Then let us enlighten him," Jim says with his usual spark of determination.

[~~~]

Leonard's first thought as he looks at himself in the bathroom mirror is that he is visibly nervous. He cannot stand to see himself in such a state so he breathes deeply and forces his normally steady hands to relax.

"It's just Jim," he pep-talks his reflection. "Jim is a very good friend, and somehow or other Jim's got it in his head he wants you. Your job is to talk him out of it."

His reflection frowns.

"Don't look at me like that," tuts Leonard. "You are not to take advantage of the situation! You're a doctor, not a—a schoolboy pining after his first crush!"

He lays a hand across of his eyes. "Lord, how did it come to this? I knew this ship was gonna turn me into a basket case someday." He hears the buzzer announcing the arrival of a guest to his quarters.

Leonard exits the bathroom, wiping his palms along the legs of his pants as he goes. "Enter," he calls, and for a second his voice cracks. It's embarrassing. He really shouldn't have allowed himself so much time to think about what he has to say. Or what he could say, if all of his common sense decides to desert him.

He fully expects Jim to march into the room, ready to do battle to get whatever it is he wants; but Leonard doesn't expect a Vulcan to be hot on Jim's heels.

"I was invited by the Captain," Spock says preemptively when their eyes meet.

Leonard has no words.

Jim gives him one of his patented sympathetic-but-_this is how it is, Bones_ smiles. "I did mention someone else on the ship liked you," he says. "So I brought him."

This is the point at which Leonard's brain decides to short-circuit. Unfortunately, his mouth never had a good connection to his brain to begin with.

He explodes, "Are you both out of your minds?!"

[~~~]

Jim and Spock share a look. There are times when they don't need words to understand each other's thoughts. This is one of those times.

Jim circles left. Spock circles right. The movements are casual, almost like the men are drifting, but the intent becomes clear. Leonard, caught in the middle, seems to be having trouble deciding which one to watch.

Jim stops abreast of Leonard. "Bones, let me ask you a question."

"No," Leonard responds immediately.

Jim smiles at him. "If you had to decide which one of us—Spock and myself, that is—you liked better, who would it be?"

Leonard doesn't answer.

Jim glances past the doctor to the Vulcan. "It would be Spock, right?"

Spock, hands clasped behind his back, tilts his head. "The logical choice would be you, Jim. Doctor McCoy himself told me it is my inability to act more human which bothers him. Therefore he would be more likely to feel a greater affection for a full-blooded human."

They both hear Leonard suck in a breath. When the man pivots on the ball of his foot and starts toward a door across the room, Jim catches his arm to prevent the escape.

"But, Spock," he argues, "I gave Bones a kiss and he turned me down."

"Jim!" Leonard sounds appalled.

"And you know," Jim goes on to say, "I've noticed that when he isn't in my company, he's in yours. I think I have a reason to be jealous."

"Should I also be jealous?" Spock inquiries.

Jim asks in return, "Can you feel jealousy?"

"I believe in this case I would allow it."

"Why?" The word bursts out of Leonard; his curiosity seems to have gotten the better of him.

Jim privately enjoys that small victory.

Spock faces Leonard. "My reasoning and my reactions should be based in logic, not driven by emotion. That is the Vulcan way. Yet it does not preclude the possibility that emotion is logical. That is why Vulcans have never lost their enjoyment of the fine arts; it is why Vulcans can bond with their marriage partners and take pride in their children. You were correct when you said we are not so different as a people. I can desire what Jim desires when I know that desire is based on the most logical emotion of all."

"You know what it is, Bones," Jim says gently.

Leonard looks at him.

Jim slides his hand down to McCoy's and squeezes it.

"Love," Leonard answers.

"Yes," confirms Spock, whose arm reaches out. He holds two fingers aloft.

Jim meets those fingers with his own, eyes shining with happiness.

Leonard stares at Jim and Spock's touching fingertips and makes a soft noise. "I expected that," he says.

Jim threads the fingers of his other hand through Leonard's and lifts the interlocked hands for both of them to see. "But you didn't expect this?"

"How was I supposed to?" the man complains. "I'm not a mind-reader like Spock."

"There was no need to read Jim's thoughts," Spock explains. "His motives were very apparent from the beginning. He invited me much too frequently to his quarters. The dinners were unnecessarily elaborate, and he would play an intriguing game of chess only to sacrifice his Queen at the end."

"Jim." Leonard's voice is filled with exasperation and fondness. "Well I have to say, Spock, considering he's supposed to be a legendary charmer, his tactics are very frightfully un-inventive."

"Agreed."

Jim lets go of both men. "Wait a minute. You can't insult me like that!"

Leonard exchanges a look with Spock. Then he locks his hands behind his back and rocks back on his heels, announcing, "I've decided. I _do_ like Spock better."

"No, you don't," Jim argues.

"Spock can play 'Georgia on My Mind' on his lute." Leonard eyes Jim. "What can you do?"

Jim Kirk has never been one to waste a good opportunity.

Leonard appears to realize his mistake the moment Jim latches onto him and drags him forward. The man protests, "Jim!"

Jim kisses him anyway. When he finally decides to release Leonard, he is satisfied it's likely to be his most legendary kiss to-date.

Leonard, flushed from head to toe, drags the back of his hand across his mouth. "Spock, get this fool outta my quarters right now."

"As Jim is currently moving towards your sleeping cabin and removing his shirt, I doubt he intends to leave."

"I don't come here often enough," Jim calls over his shoulder. "We'll have to change that, Bones!"

"I didn't accept your proposal!" Leonard hollers back.

"But you did accept mine, Leonard," Spock replies, and Jim grins upon hearing it. "It was our intention to tell you that if you accepted either of us, you would have both, as Jim and I are already committed to each other."

"That's the most convoluted love triangle I've ever heard of, Spock!"

"It is not a triangle," Spock says.

Jim drops to the edge of the bed and pulls off his boots, finishing to himself, "It's a triumvirate." He raises his voice. "Bones, Spock—get in here! I'll show you what else this legendary Kirk can do."

The voices from behind the partition are lower than before but not faint enough that Jim cannot hear the murmurs between his two favorite people.

Bones is griping, "I've been in a relationship with him for less than a minute, and already I don't think I can take it."

"It has been said that a burden is easier to bear if one is willing to share it."

"True enough, hobgoblin. We've each had half of this particular burden for a while." A short silence ensues. Then, "Did you really mean what you said?"

"Yes."

"Good, 'cause I want to go to the observation deck."

..._Wait, the observation deck?_

Jim sits up from where he had draped himself across Leonard's bed. He hears, "I will be most pleased to accompany you."

The murmurs fade. So does the sound of footsteps in the outer cabin. Jim realizes in that moment Bones and Spock have actually left him in the bed by himself. With a curse, he snatches up his boots and shirt and hurriedly puts them back on.

They're not leaving him behind!

He flings himself around the partition—

—and stops.

"Glad you're dressed," Leonard says, standing next to Spock by the door leading to the corridor. "We're going out. Want to come along?"

Jim narrows his eyes. "You tricked me."

Wordlessly Spock looks from Jim to Leonard and then turns around and walks out the door.

Jim goes to Leonard's side, his annoyance already gone. He studies the man.

"Are we good?" he asks after a moment.

"For now," his friend replies.

Jim places a hand on McCoy's shoulder. "We can make this work, Bones," he promises.

Leonard covers Jim's hand with his own. "I might hold you to that, Jim."

"I expect you to."

They leave the room too and join Spock in the hallway. From there, it's a much simpler journey to where they want to be.

**The End**


End file.
